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Chapter 2: The Never Ending Revolution
---
The battlefield was in a terrible state. There were so many bodies that they were starting to look like a rug on the ground.
The revolutionary army had lost its commander. They’d lost their moral support. Claugh Klom lay dead.
“……”
But the battle wasn’t over yet.
The private armies they’d been fighting had begun to fight themselves, so the battle wasn’t over yet.
It was a strange sight. Why on earth did the killing continue when one of the two sides’ commanding officers was dead?
“……”
Luke Stokkart stood wearing the blue uniform of a nobleman’s private army. His eyes narrowed.
People died and died. He heard one shout - “I hate doing everything the nobles tell me to do! I can’t live like this anymore!”
He heard another scream - “I-it’s exactly like what Claugh Klom said! If we, if we do everything we can here, then we might be able to change things! So I-I’m going to join the revolu—”
He died before he could finish. But his hopeful scream was contagious. It reached the people around him.
There had always been a possibility that this might happen hidden away somewhere. This country’s situation was terrible to the point of absurdity. For a long time, the only emotion it was capable of bringing anyone was despair. It was the kind of country where it would’ve been stranger if a revolution wasn’t brewing than if one was. It was the kind of place where it would’ve been natural for the people to rebel against the nobility. But they never did. Why, he didn’t know.
The only explanation he could think of was that some terrible power that far surpassed what humanity could do had a hand in the way things were. It must have been like that forever. And that was why…
“…That’s why Miller decided to use Sion, who has royal blood, for this…”
Perhaps Miller had made the right choice, as things were finally happening differently than they had been. The people’s anger had finally overflowed. Their sadness, despair, and hope had finally lit the flames of revolution. Yes, their revolution was without a doubt failing in this moment, but watching the battle now, their side was still managing to hang on.
“It’s thanks to Claugh, isn’t it…”
Luke gazed at Claugh Klom’s body, crouched to the ground. His back had been pierced by a sword.
“Or perhaps it’s due to Sion Astal’s power.”
Either way, Luke couldn’t help but think that they still had a chance of winning. The rules of their world were changing. The chains that forced their people into submission to the point that it almost felt like brainwashing were finally loosening.
“Though I don’t think there’s much we can do with such a strong disadvantage.”
A man wearing the same uniform as Luke turned to him. “The hell are you doing just standing there? Kill the revolutionaries!”
“Ah, I apologize. You see, I’ve just been so busy with the special mission that Marquess Tenglon entrusted me with.”
“Special mission? What did he say?”
Luke took a step back, then turned to look behind himself. As he did, he threw a knife towards the man who was questioning him’s neck. “It’s a secret. From you, anyway.”
Luke began to move through the soldiers. The revolutionaries were doing their best to kill him, but he evaded their efforts and stealthily killed the private noble army men instead.
“Wh-what’s happening!?” Luke said for good measure as he cut through the noble army’s commander. “Why are you helping the revolutionaries!? If we betray the nobles, they’ll kill us… Shit! We’ll lose at this rate!”
Of course that wasn’t true. The private armies still had a significant advantage. He just wanted to make it clear to everyone that the nobles wouldn’t be kind when they returned after fighting with traitors in hopes of more people switching sides to fight with the revolutionaries.
Most likely everyone here hated the nobility. Many had friends and family who had been slaughtered by the nobility at some point in their lives. It was more common now than ever before, after all…
But that didn’t change the current situation.
“We’re still far overpowered… Overpowered to the extent of wondering if this isn’t just expending pointless effort. But— if a miracle were to occur here, which side would it favor?”
It would have to be a miracle made by Rahel Miller. That or one made by Sion Astal.
“…Claugh is an idiot. I wish he could see the interesting end to this,” Luke said to himself, a sad expression on his face. But it only lasted for a moment. Claugh’s subordinate, Shuss, ran into his line of sight. He’d changed into the uniform of a different noble’s private army at some point.
Shuss was running towards Claugh with the full intention of helping him up. But Claugh wasn’t moving. He really wasn’t moving. So he had to be dead—
But Shuss’ eyes widened. He yelled something to one of his men.
“…What, he’s alive?” Luke whispered and smiled. “He’s so stubborn.”
Then someone spoke from behind him. “Claugh was brought to the verge of death on Rahel Miller’s orders—”
“And Claugh was ordered to pretend to be dead?”
“Yes.”
“He did well. Have you received our next order?”
“No. We’d been told that we ought to retreat once Claugh was down, but seeing the current situation…”
Luke turned around to see a man older than himself, wearing a private army uniform. He looked at him, puzzled. “What’s going on?” Luke wondered. “Normally Miller would have us retreat. This situation is just too much…”
That was as far as he got.
An enemy soldier ran up to Miller’s subordinate and beheaded him with ease. Then he turned to Luke. “You’re with the revolutionary army, aren’t you?”
“……”
Busted.
But Luke smiled anyway, then raised his voice to a scream. “Th-this guy’s a traitor! He’s with the revolutionaries! Kill him!”
“Wha—”
Countless Lightning Flash magic circles surrounded him. Luke didn’t even have to raise a finger.
“Y-you bastard…”
With that, the magic hit him all at once and he fell to the ground. He was dead.
This was a horrible battlefield. Nobody knew who their allies or enemies were for sure. They just killed.
Luke took a step back and looked to his fallen comrade’s head on the ground. “It’s okay,” he said. “I won’t let your death be in vain. We’ll manage to make this revolution work somehow…”
He felt a knife pierce his back. When he looked back to see who had done it, it was a soldier from the revolutionary army. Luke smiled at the pain as well as his own foolishness.
“You’re a dog of the nobility!” The soldier yelled, a frantic look on his face. He was a boy of only fourteen or fifteen.
To think that a kid like that was out on the battlefield. That was how they did things here in Roland. It was a country that ran on values that never should have existed.
Luke grabbed the boy’s arm. “You’re struggling, aren’t you? I’m your ally.”
“Huh?”
“And I have something to ask of you. You’re an excellent soldier to have gotten that knife in my back so I need you to do something for me, alright?”
“I-I stabbed my own ally in the back…”
“It’s fine. Take a second to look behind me - carefully, so that nobody follows your eyes. Claugh Klom is alive. Shuss Shirazz made sure he’d be okay. That being said, I need you to gather a number of our allies together. We’re going to use magic as a distraction so Shuss can bring Claugh back to headquarters.”
“A-ah, so Sir Claugh is—”
“Got it? We’ll win this. What’s your name?”
“L, Lach… Velariore.”
“Okay, Lach. Everything will be okay. We’re on the side of justice, so we’ll definitely come out on top.”
Justice.
They were just.
‘Justice’ as a concept had absolutely no value in Roland, but that was precisely why Luke said it.
The boy’s eyes shined with hope. “Wh-what’s your name?”
“Haha.”
Luke didn’t introduce himself. There just wasn’t a point in doing so. He didn’t know if he’d live or die here, after all. He didn’t know if this would become a country worth living in or not either.
Even so, he ran back into the battlefield to try to help their revolution succeed.
If they couldn’t protect themselves now, the scales would tip far into the nobility’s favor. But if they could prove that they were the better army of the two, then onlookers would decide that they were the ones worth following instead of the private armies and might enter the fray on their side.
They only needed a little more. Only a little, tiny bit more.
“…It might end up being for nothing, but what’s the harm in dreaming?” Luke whispered to himself as he drew a magic circle.
---
“You look like a girl,” Ferris said as she stared at Sion.
They were sitting together inside of a carriage, and Sion was combing the rainwater and blood out of his hair. He’d already changed clothes into Lucile’s. He’d chosen something high-class but simple.
He hadn’t had much time to tend to his wounds, so he’d cauterized his shoulder and hand with magic to stop the bleeding. Now he was tending to his hair, the last step in being presentable.
Sion smiled at Ferris as he combed through it. “I can’t help it. I’m an ultra-noble prince through and through.”
“Ridiculous. Aren’t you just a dango delivery boy?”
“I’m that too. Dango delivery is my part-time job,” Sion said with a tired smile.
They were currently heading towards Count Newbell, who had been his goal for a long time now.
Two of Roland’s nobles compromised the majority of power within the country - Duke Abaaz and Duke Staelied. Marquess Wahti and Marquess Tenglon fought for power a step below them, and after that, it was basically a free-for-all.
Among the rest of the nobles, there was a dependable man who didn’t participate in the power struggles - Count Newbull, a man of better character than other noblemen. In fact, Sion was already in contact with him, since he seemed awfully tolerant of him.
If Count Newbull accepted Sion even in the midst of the Roland Empire’s present unrest, they might really be able to take hold of the future.
“…At least, I hope so,” Sion mumbled self-derisively.
He opened the carriage window and looked out. The dark and cloudy sky was still spitting rain down on them. It lit up here and there, but he couldn’t say if that was due to natural lightning or magic at this point.
“Sion.”
He didn’t turn to face Ferris who had called out to him. They’d probably arrived at Count Newbull’s residence. He looked down from the sky to see numerous carriages lined up. Not just carriages, either. Countless men stood defending the mansion. They must’ve been Count Newbull’s private army.
If they were his enemy, everything ended here. Even Ferris wouldn’t be able to pull through if that many soldiers came at her at once.
“Sion,” Ferris repeated.
This time, Sion turned to her. “Hm?”
“You never answered my question.”
“Question?”
“Mm.”
“What was it?”
“What are you doing?” Ferris asked. “What’s happening here and now?”
He couldn’t answer.
What was happening?
That depended entirely on if he was able to make a miracle happen. If he couldn’t do it, then nothing was happening. Nothing at all. It’d just be another day in their usual dark and gloomy Roland. It’d be another day where the nobility laughed and crushed commoners under their feet like bugs.
“…We’ve arrived at Count Newbull’s,” the carriage’s driver said.
If they attacked, then this was the end of it all. Every single scenario they might lead to their success would stop, unable to continue. He’d let himself be killed so Ferris could get away, and that’d be that.
“…Guh.”
He was shivering from anxiety. At the same time, he wanted to laugh. Why did it take him this long to feel sick from worry?
He supposed it was because he was so hopeful now.
“……”
They didn’t attack.
Count Newbull accepted him.
Sion smiled. So there was still a path for him to walk, was there? There were still things he had to do. Difficult things.
The carriage stopped. “We’re here.”
Sion nodded, then turned to Ferris. “Sorry, but could you get out first and hold the door open for me? I need them to think I’m noble enough for this.”
Ferris made a face like she really didn’t want to, but thankfully opened the door anyway.
A noble stood on the other side. A blond, unrealistically beautiful man. Ferris looked at him, shocked, and stood in a hurry. “B-brother!?”
It was Lucile, Ferris’ older brother.
“What are you doing here?” Ferris asked.
Lucile didn’t respond. He just smiled. Then he turned his attention towards Sion. “Lord Sion Astal. Your hand, please,” he said, almost as if he were a servant… no, a guard.
Sion smiled. “What are you doing? You said that you wouldn’t offer your hand until I made a miracle occur.”
Lucile continued to smile. “By chance, you were saved by my sister. Not once. Twice. My sister has Eris blood, too.”
“So you’re saying that I was chosen?”
“Who knows. But you haven’t done too bad in getting here. It seems to me that the heavens like you.”
“…The heavens? Isn’t it demons who are fond of me?”
Lucile smiled enticingly and raised his hand closer. “Come on. Show me a miracle. It doesn’t matter how you do it as long as you move forward, right?”
Sion moved to accept his hand, but Ferris grabbed his arm before it could reach. “I said it before too, but you shouldn’t do things how my brother wants you to,” she whispered.
“It’s too late,” Sion answered without meeting her eyes. “I can’t stop now. But you don’t need to have anything to do with it now that Lucile is here.”
“Ah…”
Sion shook Ferris’ hand off and got out of the carriage.
“Hey, Sion,” Ferris said from behind.
“……”
“Sion.”
He turned back and smiled at her. “I understand that you’re worried about me. You’re a kindhearted person, aren’t you? But this is something I have to do.”
“It’s a foolish path to take.”
“I understand that,” Sion said.
“It’s a stupid path to take.”
“Yeah, it is,” Sion agreed. “So you don’t have to come with. In fact, that’s why Lucile’s here, isn’t it? It’s so that you don’t have to see the rest.” Sion looked at Lucile, who smiled.
“Go home, Ferris,” Lucile said. “It’s time for kids to go to bed.”
“Don’t mess with me. It’s not even evening yet, Brother.”
Lucile opened his eyes to look at his sister. “Ferris.”
“……”
Ferris didn’t argue. It was hard to tell what the relationship between them was, but some understanding came from that gaze. Ferris closed the door without getting out.
Sion smiled. “She has a pretty early curfew, doesn’t she?”
“It’s out of love,” Lucile said. “Besides, what you’re about to do isn’t something that she needs to see.”
“…And what exactly am I about to do?” Sion asked.
“Ah. Weren’t you going to show me a miracle?”
“……”
“Miracles don’t come as easily as you seem to think. You can’t expect miracles to pour from the sky by relying on mere coincidence and fate. You won’t gain a miracle without dirtying your hands or selling your soul. So I’m sure that whatever you do to make one happen won’t be anything that I want my sister seeing,” Lucile said.
“Yeah, that’s true,” Sion said. “But can I say something?”
“What is it?”
“That’s a little past the point of being brotherly, isn’t it?”
Lucile looked a bit surprised, and laughed dryly. “Hahaha.”
Their conversation ended there. Dozens of private soldiers had marched up to Sion. But Sion wasn’t scared anymore. He wasn’t scared of these guys with Lucile here. Though it’d all be for nothing if they killed these soldiers. He had to captivate their hearts if he wanted a miracle, and he’d need as bright and beautiful of a miracle as he could get if he wanted to change Roland for the better.
Several nobles approached, protracted by his army on both sides. Sion recognized one of them as Count Taurus. But he wasn’t the most important of this group. The most important of them was the man in the center - a noble in his mid-thirties, Count Newbull. He had clean facial hair and exquisite posture. He looked to Sion and spoke.
“Prince Sion Astal… Never did I dream that the day would come that a prince would seek me out for a visit—”
Newbull was increasing the distance between them, and Sion didn’t have the time to close it again. So he interrupted. “Raise your head, Count Newbull. You must understand my present situation, Count. Presently, Roland is…”
Newbull nodded. “A revolution has taken root… correct? A battalion of your supporters is skirmishing with Marquess Tenglon’s private army, and it’s not a gentle skirmish, either - one could even call it a war. I cannot say that I agree with your methods… You have sacrificed many for a small chance of victory.”
Sion smiled. “Why do you think I have come to see you? Do you think I’ve come just to hear your opinion of if I’ll win or not?”
“I apologize, but we are a peaceful lot. We have no intention of aiding in military efforts—”
The private army suddenly got bigger. Sion could feel their bloodlust. He looked around. It looked like a few hundred soldiers had been hiding among Newbull’s gardens. “Do you intend on capturing me and handing me to Marquess Tenglon?” Sion asked.
“No. I am ultimately a neutral party.”
“So?”
“I was thinking of keeping you here for a while.”
“You’re taking me prisoner?”
“No, no. You are a valuable guest and will be treated as such.”
Just as he said, he was neutral. If he kept Sion in wait, he’d be able to sell him to whoever won with ease. If Sion won, he’d side with Sion. If he lost, he’d side with the other nobles.
“…Please be frank with me. Which side do you believe will win, Count Newbull?”
Newbull shrugged. “Do you think asking me that will change anything?”
“Could you tell me?”
“‘Winning’ here is impossible. Someone always wins in matches like this, and someone else always loses. But in the end, nothing changes. It’s as if this country is cursed. Nothing ever changes, no matter who comes out on top. That’s why I believe that sacrificing the lives of many civilians and soldiers for this is foolish at best.”
Sion narrowed his eyes. Newbull was right - it was possible to play games like that. If he never fought, he’d never die. He lived as a member of the nobility, so that choice was open to him.
But that choice wasn’t open for everyone.
Regular people were still dying. Women, children, and the powerless were still dying.
Newbull was different.
He was a noble. He was capable of protecting the people dear to him even without participating in this battle. So neutrality was a position he was capable of taking.
“……”
Sion’s allies weren’t like that. They were overwhelmingly regular people as opposed to nobles. They lived every day at risk of being killed for some selfish, meaningless, and absurd reason.
If this country could change.
If they could just change this country—
“……”
Newbull probably wouldn’t see eye-to-eye with him because his perspective was coming from a completely different place. He lived as one of the strong. He turned his attention to protecting those around him more than anyone else.
So Sion asked him once again.
“…Count Newbull. Which of the two sides out there fighting today do you think will win?”
“As I said, the winner is of no particular interest to m—”
“It’s me,” Sion said. “I will win.”
Newbull looked at him like he was an idiot for a moment, but that expression was soon replaced by a smile. “Is that so. As expected of a prince. Will you stay here at my manor and rest as you wait for victory to bless you?”
“I believe the conflict is between two armies - one in support of Marquess Tenglon, and one in support of me,” Sion said.
“Yes, that’s true.”
“I have many noble supporters, just as Marquess Tenglon does. In other words, this is a fight between the nobles on my side and the nobles on Marquess Tenglon’s side…”
Newbull tilted his head in confusion. “It is quite insolent to act as though you have noble supporters when it’s so plainly unlikely to be true.”
Sion turned his gaze to Count Taurus behind Newbull, who had already pledged his support to Sion. Taurus averted his eyes. So that’s how it was.
Sion didn’t blame him, though. His claims of supporting Sion were meaningless from the start. He always knew that. Anyone would change their opinions the second that having them put themselves in danger.
“…It seems to me that you still do not understand your position, Prince, so I will enlighten you. Duke Abaaz has begun to move.”
Duke Abaaz was one of the biggest powers in their country. Duke Staelied alone was capable of going against him.
“Duke Abaaz allegedly annihilated the revolutionaries who attempted to appeal to him in order to protect Duke Staelied,” Newbull continued.
“……”
“Duke Abaaz was originally part of Duke Staelied’s faction. It is natural for them to band together in incidents like this. If that should happen, then naturally their army would be the strongest, correct? If it is between Duke Abaaz and you—”
“So you support Duke Abaaz, do you, Count Newbull.”
“That is not the case.”
“But you will capture me because good things will befall you should Duke Abaaz win. You want that outcome as it will allow you to sell me to him. Correct?”
“…No. Ultimately, I would like to stay neutral. Don’t misunderstand.”
What a coward. Sion had the urge to laugh.
Still, he understood Newbull’s position. He was trying to ensure his own safety by not getting involved as long as he could help it. He might not understand the value in fighting here in the first place. And yeah, it wasn’t like his family would die in the conflict or anything, so he might be right. It might be absolutely meaningless to him.
“…Count Newbull, have you no ambition?”
“What do you mean?”
“For example, haven’t you ever wanted to be more influential than Duke Abaaz, or possess great power?”
“No, not particularly. Who would I even expect to bestow me with such power?”
“Me.”
“Hahaha. You are quite the joker,” Newbull said. It was obvious that he thought of Sion’s claim as no more than a madman’s mumbling.
Sion didn’t let it get to him. “It isn’t just nonsense. I must ask you the same as you asked me - haven’t you grasped your situation?”
“Oh?”
“I did not come here to beg you to save me,” Sion said.
“Then why have you come?”
“To give you orders.”
“…Orders from who?”
Sion took the golden pin he stole from the king from his pocket. It held Roland’s crest-of-arms, two snakes circling a lance. He spun it around in his palm. “Orders from my father, the king of Roland—naturally.”
Newbull paled, but kept his mouth shut instead of making a dumb noise out of surprise like many might. That ability was probably what allowed him to live neutrally for so long. When he finally spoke, it was quiet. “I was under the impression that His Majesty was not taking visitors…”
“I met with him not long ago. You are welcome to verify this fact.”
It was the truth, so anyone ought to be able to figure it out by looking into it briefly.
“My father named me his successor.”
That part was a lie, but one that was impossible to disprove. They had met, but their conversation was private, so Sion could fill in the gaps to his liking.
“He gave me this crest to prove it. As such, I am giving you an order as my father’s representative.”
Another lie. He hadn’t been given any orders at all. But again, it’d be impossible to disprove.
Count Newbull stared at the crest intensely, as if calculating probabilities in his mind.
Sion couldn’t give him time to think too hard about it. He continued. “I must ask you once more, Count Newbull. Have you no ambition?”
“……”
“Certainly Duke Abaaz and Duke Staelied are extremely powerful men. But do you intend to live and die infinitely less powerful than they are?”
“……”
Newbull paled.
Just another push. He needed another push in the right direction and he’d earn Newbull’s support.
And if he could obtain Newbull’s support, tons of nobles would back him as a result. Even that wouldn’t be enough to stand up against Duke Abaaz and Duke Staelied, but still. Sion’s faction - the humans who wanted to see him succeed - would get stronger, and their belief would make him stronger as a result. He had to capture the hearts of many in order to succeed.
“…Prince. May I ask a question?” Newbull wondered cautiously.
Sion nodded. “Of course. But know that with each question you ask, your beliefs are challanged in turn, Count.”
“……”
Newbull tensed. Obviously - anyone would tense knowing that their beliefs were being tested like this.
But it wasn’t his belief in Sion that was being tested here. It was his belief in Duke Abaaz and Duke Staelied. His belief in his fellow nobles. His words would change his place in the world and decide in this moment who he would take as his enemy forever.
Abaaz, Staelied, and Sion Astal.
People couldn’t stay neutral forever. They could spend eternity running away from conflict. If they refused to make a decision, they’d end up losing everything that their options could have offered them, just like how Sion had lost what made him human, just like how Kiefer lost her sisters, and just like how Ryner lost his freedom—
Even the nobility, who had lived impossibly tranquil lives inside this world that catered to them, now had to decide what they were going to do about the battlefield that was rapidly approaching their doorsteps.
Sion smiled and held his hand out. “So what will you do? Will you ask?”
He did, in the end. “I have just one question to ask you.”
“One… alright. What is it?”
“The king… no, His Majesty. What did His Majesty order you to do?”
It was an excellent question. He’d definitely understand Sion’s intentions if he heard the answer to it.
What did the king order him to do? What special order was Sion carrying out?
It couldn’t be anything plain. Their king didn’t participate in politics, so for him to finally step out onto the stage, it had to be serious. His humanity had long since crumbled, so he never gave any orders or made any indication of what he wanted to happen. That was how the nobility ended up doing whatever they pleased, without any checks or balances on their greed.
So what had the king ordered?
Newbull figured that he’d be able to determine if Sion’s words were truth or lie by hearing Sion’s answer to that one simple question. It also wasn’t a question that’d betray Duke Abaaz, Duke Staelied, or any of the neutral nobles. It was mere confirmation - a very appropriate thing to ask, no matter what angle one looked at it.
It was the perfect question. It was clear how Newbull had managed to survive while upholding his neutrality for so long.
Sion smiled. He’d thought of an answer to this before arriving. “He gave the order for Roland to go to war with Imperial Nelpha.”
The nobles’ eyes went wide. They all wore matching expressions of disbelief.
“B-but, but we went to war with the Kingdom of Estabul just last year, and its former territory still remains ungoverned due to their resistance. How can we possibly find the power to invade Nelpha—”
“…Can I take your words as opposition… no, as a rebellion aimed at His Majesty?” Sion asked.
That shut Newbull up.
“Let me clear things up with you,” Sion continued. “The fight at the military headquarters is between the army supporting me, Sion Astal, and the armies supporting Duke Abaaz and Duke Staelied, correct?”
“……”
“In other words, Duke Abaaz and Duke Staelied are rebels who are presently fighting against His Majesty’s decree, and the battle at the headquarters is them trying to further their own agendas. Correct?”
“E-even if you ask me, I…”
“But Count, here we are at your manor, where you stated that you intend to hold me hostage. Is that still your plan?”
“Prince, this is a bit dark—”
“Quiet, Lord Newbull. You are a man who claims to take no risks. So what do you intend on gaining from this?”
“……”
“Make a choice or stay out of this,” Sion said. “Tonight I will kill Duke Abaaz. You can choose to die along with him or choose to follow me. Those are your two options.”
Newbull was silent for a moment. Then his shoulders fell. “I will follow you, Prince.”
That was Newbull’s choice. From now on, he would be the enemy of other nobles.
Sion smiled and took Newbull’s hand. “Haha, of course. I trusted that you would say that, Count Newbull.”
“……”
“Then I will order you at once. First, I need you to convey this to all of the nobles: Sion Astal has undertaken the king’s order to prepare for war against Imperial Nelpha, and you will assist in doing so. But before that, you must kill the rebel Duke Anorita Abaaz as well as his closest confidants in the night.”
Newbull shivered. So did the nobles behind him. Sion had ordered them to kill another noble so easily. But Sion ignored their fear and continued.
“I will give Duke Abaaz’s position to whoever brings him to me first. If one of Duke Abaaz’s followers should sell him out, then I will give his position to them.”
“I-if I told everyone that, blood would rain upon this entire country—”
Sion interrupted him with a smile. “It’s already falling. Roland has always existed under bloody rain, hasn’t it?”
“……”
“This country is mad. It’s absolutely insane. And if the king is the one who leads this country down the path it’s on…”
“……”
“I don’t need sanity either. I’m prepared for what lies ahead. I’m prepared to face what the king faces—so Count Newbull. Will you follow me?”
Newbull inhaled sharply as he came to a decision, then sighed. “If you win, then—”
Sion smiled. “You won’t regret it.”
Then Sion turned back towards the carriage.
“Where are you going?” Newbull asked.
“To my allies fighting on the battlefield, of course.” Sion said as he opened the door to the carriage. Ferris was long gone. It was past her curfew, after all. A pretty girl like her didn’t have to see the terrible things that could happen inside of this mad world.
He stepped inside and ordered the driver to go.
Lucile, who sat quietly in the seat facing him, laughed. “Heh, heheh, in the end, you didn’t have to use my name, did you. Even though I only came because I thought you might need the Eris name.”
“I’ll use it if I need to.”
“Will you?”
“I will.”
“But I think that names like mine might end up being pretty unnecessary,” Lucile said as he looked out of the carriage window.
“What do you mean?” Sion asked.
“…Your words from a moment ago are already having a major effect on this country. Amazing. They’re spreading fast like greed and self-satisfaction usually spread. This country really is amazing.”
“……”
“Before long, countless people will die for this” Lucile continued. “Those who followed Anorita Abaaz and lived powerful lives until now will flee because of the lie you told of the king’s will. You’ve begun to kill with words alone.” Then he turned to face Sion. “Isn’t that impressive? From now on, your path will be bloodier than anything you’ve ever known.”
Lucile laughed. Sion didn’t.
He’d decided to continue on this path no matter what, so there was no need to worry about how bloody it was. The revolution had already begun.
Maybe this was the shortest path to where he needed to be. But it might also be the bloodiest.
“…And what about you?” Sion asked. “Do you even understand how many people will die for this?”
Lucile nodded easily. “Duke Abaaz is someone who your father trusts greatly, after all. I understand what will happen when his people die. The blood of nobles is especially thick. It’s thick because of the curses tightly wound inside of every blood vessel within.”
“Hmm. So nobles are special, are they?” Sion asked sarcastically.
Lucile smiled.
“…So how much stands between me and my father now? How much more do I have to do before I can become king?”
Lucile looked like he was enjoying this conversation. “There’s still an overwhelmingly huge gap. It’s undoable, but it’s not like you can stop now. At least it’ll all be over soon. So what will you do now?”
“……”
“Nothing will change even if this marks the end of Duke Abaaz. You may become a potential successor to the throne, but you won’t become king.”
“……”
“You’ll need a miracle. So what will you do?” Lucile asked.
“……”
“Where will you go from here?”
With that, Lucile disappeared.
Sion stared at the seat Lucile was in until a moment ago as he thought. But no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t find an answer. It wasn’t like he could move forward slowly while carefully considering his options, either.
“…There’s not enough time.”
His allies were dying as he sat here thinking.
It wasn’t like he had real orders from the king, either. The king was so far gone that he probably didn’t remember Sion at all.
Someone could figure out that he lied about orders from the king, and if that happened, Duke Abaaz would instantly regain his status. If they could form an alliance with Staelied before then, they might have a chance, but…
“…Will anything change even if the nobles begin to fight each other?” Sion mumbled to himself.
Even as he sat here thinking, the same shit that always plagued this country continued.
The nobility always used the princes they backed to fight each other for power. It always started and ended with that.
“…I need a miracle,” Sion whispered to himself, his voice low. “I really need a miracle.”
The door to the carriage suddenly opened. A man soaked to the bone jumped in. “Sion Astal. Explain what’s happening.”
It was Rahel Miller, the man who single-handedly planned and fought to revolutionize this country.
“You’re soaked,” Sion said.
Miller ignored him and sat down, soaking the seat. “I don’t need your small talk. Tell me what’s going on.”
“What’s been happening on your side?”
“Terrible. The plan to make Duke Abaaz surrender was a failure.”
It had seemed like his plan was progressing well before. He had been leading a straightforward mission to break the relationship between Marquess Tenglon and Duke Staelied, but it failed. Marquess Tenglon was more loyal to Abaaz than expected. If this all got around to Count Newbull, a new game among the nobles would be born - a game Abaaz made to bring Staelied down.
But that game had already failed. The lie Sion had just told changed everything.
“You don’t need to worry about Duke Abaaz anym—”
“Abaaz is keeping me like a pet right now,” Miller said. “And he already knows. He knows about the lie you just told. He’s already clearing his name.”
“……”
“But tell me your side of things. What are you thinking? What are you trying to do? Isn’t there some miracle that only you can do, with Roland’s blood running through your veins?”
“……”
“If not, then back off. I’ll let Abaaz use me, get rid of Staelied with him, then restart the revolution at my own pace.”
That meant that Miller was abandoning Claugh and Luke, who were currently fighting for them at the headquarters. He was abandoning everyone there.
“Alright?” Miller prompted, a strict expression on his face. “Think about it, but respond quickly. Is there anything that only you can do?”
“……”
“Don’t you have anything that’s at least good enough to excuse the damage we’ve taken to our lives? To the revolution?”
There was nothing. Sion had nothing.
He had no allies, and the orders from the king were a lie, too. There was no way that he could take responsibility for everyone’s lives like this. And for that, he had to apologize. But couldn’t they just believe and follow him despite that—
No… the last allies he’d enticed with those words all died. They were murdered at the hands of Estabul’s Magical Knights. Brutally murdered.
“……”
There was no way that he, the guy who got them all killed, would have the confidence to take lives into his hands a second time.
Tony died.
Fahle died.
Tyle died.
Kiefer cried.
Ryner fell into despair.
His actions affected all sorts of people, but all in the same way - negatively.
Time and time again, he let his arrogance get the best of him and used his baseless self-confidence to convince people that he was going to save the world. Time and time again, people died because of him.
“……”
How could he possibly have any confidence left after everything?
Nobody could be crazy enough to stay confident after everything that’d happened to him, right?
So Sion looked to Miller and spoke. “Hey, Miller.”
“What?”
“I’m a useless guy.”
“……”
“The thought of being responsible for the lives of others is so scary that I could shiver. It makes me so scared that I might cry. I really do shake like a leaf.”
His legs were shaking now. So were his hands. Obviously, right? He couldn’t hold the heavy weight of other people’s lives very easily.
Miller narrowed his eyes. “You’re a coward.”
“Haha.”
“So what’s a coward like you want to do? Run away?”
Sion shook his head and smiled. His legs were shaking. His hands were shaking. His heart itself was shaking. “No,” he answered. “Today… today, I’m going to make a stand. I’ll change the world. If I can’t do it, if I’m a good-for-nothing, then this country will stay terrible forever too. So Miller. Believe in me.”
His declaration probably wasn’t something to reply to lightly. But Miller’s response came without hesitation. “Fine. I’ll leave it to you. I’d been thinking the same thing. I’m no good for this job. I can’t get deep enough into this country to change it, can I?”
Sion nodded. “Yeah.”
Miller laughed. “Ha, you admit it so easily. Give me your orders, then. What do you want me to do? I’ll get you anything you want. I’ll do what you need when you need it. So… Show me who wasn’t chosen by this country the new world you’ll create, Sion Astal.”
So Sion gave his orders.
They were probably useless, meaningless orders that were impossible to follow. But Miller took them without question.
“If that could bring us a miracle, then we might as well try, right?” Miller asked. He jumped out of the carriage as fast as he’d entered. The door slammed closed behind him.
The inside went quiet.
Outside he could hear the wheels of the carriage turning and the rain falling.
He was headed towards the battlefield.
“…A miracle,” Sion whispered. He raised his head. “I kinda want to run away.”
His lips turned up in a self-deprecating smile.
---
